The Unearthly Child
by themusicain
Summary: The TARDIS lands in a junkyard in London and the Doctor and Martha get themselves a job in the local school. Someone recognises the Doctor, but he doesn't recognise her. People offended by lack of continuity between old and new Doctor Who, look away.
1. Chapter 1

The Unearthly Child

She rested her chin on her hands and gazed at her jotter. At the front of the class, the teacher inserted the CD into the player and selected the track. Soon all the class could hear the German people telling them about their holidays.

"_Ich habe meinen Großeltern besucht. Sie wohnen in Berlin am Stadtrand. Wir sind zwei Wochen geblieben. Ich habe stayed in their spare room. On the first day we went to see the-_"

"What?" she squeaked.

"Miss Campbell," began her teacher sternly, pausing the tape. "Is there a problem?" He glanced around at the rest of the class. "Has anyone else any reason to believe there's something wrong with this CD?"

"No," they chorused.

"Exactly. So just calm down, please." He smiled faintly, almost patronisingly, and continues with the recording.

She sat through the class somehow, increasingly on edge. She didn't even wince at being addressed as "Miss" Campbell. Despite the fact that she could clearly hear English, no one else in her class seemed to have noticed. Indeed, some of the points in her desk partner's jotter were _wrong_.

When the bell finally rang, she glanced down at her textbook as she stuffed it into her bag. It now said "_German_" on it in big letters, where before it had said "_Deutsche_." Now completely freaked out, she flicked through the pages and saw that there was not a single German word in sight.

Walking out of the school building, she glanced involuntarily skywards, but all she could see were clouds. Nothing else swirled above her head. She shook her head to try and clear her thoughts, but she continued to look up every few minutes.

She turned into Totter's Lane and ambled slowly up the road. Reaching the place she currently called home, she turned, as always, to look at No. 79 across the road. She sighed, opened the door, and entered the Children's Home.

Apart from a quiet "hello," no one bothered her; they could see she was preoccupied. They'd learnt to leave her alone at such times. This was the one thing that put prospective foster parents off. She had that lonely look of someone who had been through a lot more suffering than most people went through in a lifetime. Though the Social Workers were supposed to help children like this, the truth was, they just didn't know how. Only a few actually knew anything about her past. She was a closed book otherwise. To everyone else, she was just another kid in care.

She changed out of her school uniform without really noticing what she was doing. She brushed out her plaits and stowed her school clothes away on a chair in the corner. Then she moved to the large object that dominated most of her small bedroom space. It was unlikely that she would have been able to continue her harp playing if she hadn't already owned this harp from her previous life… before she came here.

She moved the pedals into position: all in middle, except one. She coaxed a haunting lullaby from the strings, simple yet beautiful, melancholy and strange. Suddenly, as if agitated by her distraction, she drew her fingers across the strings in a loud glissando, and proceeded with a much faster tune. The bass rhythm pulled strange memories, floating like dreams, from the back of her mind. Or maybe they were just dreams. She wasn't sure… comas did that to you… a great rip in the sky… through the fabric of space and time… millions, _billions_ of orbs falling from the sky… her friends slaughtered before her eyes… a fear she could no longer place… a fear of being found… found by _what_? … hiding… remaining still as the world plunged into chaos around her… then a story… a single word… a word filled with hope… then she'd woken up from the coma induced by a cycling accident.

As the final chord rang out, she became aware of another sound. The grinding of alien engines. Her heart rose into her mouth at the sound, desperation to cry out, and yet to remain silent. Crossing to the window, she peered out into No. 79 across the road. Sure enough, she saw just what she had expected to see, what she had _wanted_ to see for so long.

A faint image at first, growing bolder and stronger with each second. Blue. A blue box. _The_ Blue Box. And out of it came a skinny, brown-haired man, and his pretty companion.

Her heart leapt.

The TARDIS had come home.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

The first thing Martha noticed when she walked out of the TARDIS doors was their surroundings. Obviously.

"So, you've admitted it then?"

The Doctor turned to regard her, his eyes wide and innocent.

"Have you noticed where we are?"

The Doctor narrowed his eyes, looking around. "Hmmm, definitely somewhere on Earth, pretty sure it's _your_ universe, somewhere in England by the looks of it…"

"We're in a scrap yard," said Martha bluntly.

The Doctor frowned slightly, then his face adopted a look of extreme indignation as Martha's meaning hit him. "Martha Jones," he began crossly, "I take you another trip in the TARDIS as a thank you for helping me to save the world- _again_- and all you do is verbally abuse your transport?" He patted the blue box fondly. "There, there, old girl, she didn't mean it _really_."

"Of course I didn't," sighed Martha, she, too, looking fondly at the TARDIS. "I know how much she means to you. But why _here_?" She swept an arm expansively over the sheets of rusting metal, the dented watering cans, and the bedsprings that resembled wrecked Slinkies. "It's like New Earth again, when you took me to the slums-"

"We had fun, didn't we?" protested the Doctor.

"Yeah, when I didn't have giant mutant crabs trying to eat me!"

The Doctor waved the fact away. "Anyway, let's have a look and see what can discover here. The TARDIS very rarely drops us somewhere _boring_."

He glanced across the road. "Oh, look, a children's home! Wonder if there's a really weird kid with weird abilities?" He lowered his voice spookily. "The power to see into the future, maybe the ability to communicate with the dead-"

"Or, maybe they're just normal kids?" Martha sighed again. "You have a seriously over-active imagination, you know that? Besides, you can't just go barging into a kid's home and start asking stupid questions."

"Quite right!" agreed the Doctor. "Which is why we shall go to the nearest school!" He turned, his long coat billowing out behind. Martha followed him, jogging slightly to keep up with his long strides. Neither bothered to look at the name of the junkyard. And neither did they notice the face watching them from an upstairs window. And no one noticed the figure watching them from the street corner.

DW

"No way!"

Martha glared at the Doctor, who gave her his innocent look again.

"Why not? What's wrong with being a dinner lady?"

"I'm terrible in the kitchen."

"So?"

"I'm not being a dinner lady!"

"Then what _are_ you going to do while I teach students their history? Funny, I've never actually _taught_ history. Odd, what with my tremendous experience in the subject."

"I dunno, I'll find something to do," replied Martha. "Apart from being a dinner lady."

"Like what?" The Doctor folded his arms expectantly.

"Err…"

"Exactly." The Doctor looked smug. "Dinner lady it is."

They walked away from the school back to where the TARDIS was. Martha glanced back at the school, then remembered something.

"In the paper, like, last year, there was something about a school getting record results, yet loads of kids were off ill. We had to do it as an exercise in medical school." She grimaced. "Diagnose the problems and risk of infection, stuff like that. Anyway," she trotted forward a little more so she was once again level with the Doctor. "A few days later it blew up. You didn't have anything to do with it, did you?"

"Maybe," replied the Doctor vaguely, a twinkle in his eye.

DW

She sneaked across the road into the scrap yard. She had been slightly hurt by his apparent lack of comprehension as to where he was, but it _had_ been a while. Even so, some would say that this was where it had begun.

She'd seen him leave with his companion earlier. _Wonder if she knows exactly what she's got herself into_? she thought.

Checking around to make sure no one was watching, she crept forward towards the TARDIS. She pressed her hand against the blue wood, and at once felt the life thriving within. She could feel it rushing through her. Exhilarated, she drew out a string around her neck. Taking one last look over her shoulder, she pulled it off, and inserted the small silver key attached into the lock.

The door opened silently. She stepped into the control room. _He's redecorated_, she thought to herself. She definitely preferred it. The curved, branch-like columns and the gentle green glow made her feel as though she had stepped inside a living thing. The living thing that was the TARDIS.

She ran her fingers lightly over the control console, careful not to press or move anything. It looked rather haphazard. She smiled wistfully.

She scrolled through the TARDIS logs. So there were _ten_ of him now, she mused. Forty-four years. Forty-four long, sometimes difficult, yet wonderful, years.

The door opened behind her. She spun round, startled, to see _him_ standing there, the black girl peering over his shoulder. Both wore expressions of shock. Quickly, she swung the string back around her neck, and stood still, her heart thumping. _Not now_. After a moment, their gazes shifted to a point a few feet away from where she was standing.

"There's someone there," murmured the girl, trying unsuccessfully to drag her gaze back.

"I know," the Doctor replied just as softly. "And I don't think she wants to be seen."

They stepped into the TARDIS, giving her room to slip out of the doorway and run home.

"I think," said the Doctor slowly, "we've just found our weird kid."


	3. Chapter 3

wow, i have to say thanks for the reviews and watches and what-not! i'm doing my best to get as many chapters as possible up at the moment, 'cos my prelims start on thursday, and i've got five highers to worry about.

Outsidersluver1992: it does say she has a key. and you're rather jumping the gun a bit!

Chapter Three

The sound of her toast popping out of the toaster shook her out of her thoughts. That night she had dreamt of locked doors and fading engines. Then they had changed into screeches of tearing metal, people screaming, then sudden, utter silence.

She hardly saw what she was doing as she scraped the butter knife over her toast, hardly tasted it as she ate. She was dimly aware of Jack, the care worker, watching her carefully. She knew it was obvious that she'd slept badly.

She joined the other kids in the ritual donning of coats, shrugging on of school bags and tramping out through the door. All the way to school they kept close together. That's what kids in care did. The adults had failed them, so they looked out for each other. She winced slightly at this thought. _When I'm older_, she thought, _I'll foster a child just like these ones_.

DW

Martha giggled when she finally figured what it was that the Doctor was muttering about.

"Okay, don't start by repeating the word "history" over and over again. It just doesn't have the same ring as physics. And _definitely_ don't say "correctamundo." Dear me, no!"

"Perhaps it'd be a good idea not to mention that you've met Shakespeare, too," interrupted Martha.

"What about Benjamin Franklin? Can I mention him?"

"So long as you don't start talking about the rope burns you got."

"Done."

As they reached the school gates, Martha said goodbye and headed towards the canteen. She really didn't want to be a dinner lady, but, once again, the Doctor had managed to talk her round. He'd pointed out that dinner ladies faced the kids every day, and often got to know them very well. They were also more likely to talk about the kids. Good place to start.

She washed her hands and pulled a hair net over her head. She pulled on her white uniform and checked her reflection in one of the huge pans. _I look like I'm about to go into a hospital theatre, minus the mask and gloves_. The thought made her feel marginally better.

DW

"Good morning, class!" Yes, that was a good way to start. The Doctor strolled into the history classroom and laid his briefcase on his desk. "I'm Mr Smith, and I'm going to be taking you for history. Register!"

He hunted around his desk for a moment, before eventually finding it folded up amongst the leaves of the potted plant. He ignored the smirks of the students. Evidently, he was being tested.

He quickly counted the names on the sheet, then counted the number of heads in the classroom, before subtracting his own. The numbers matched. "All here! Good!" The students looked puzzled, and he felt a small surge of satisfaction. _No harm in showing them who's in charge_.

The Doctor clapped his hands together, and glanced at his lesson plan. "Stonehenge!" Not Benjamin Franklin _or_ Shakespeare, but he could still have some fun. "Built when?"

A boy near the front put his hand up.

"Yes…?"

"Jonah, sir."

"Go for it."

"It was built around 3100 B.C, sir."

"Indeed," the Doctor nodded. He fiddled around with the computer and projector for a moment, then a picture of Stonehenge during the summer solstice dominated the white board. It was a beautiful scene, and for a moment the entire room stared, transfixed. Then the Doctor broke the spell by replacing the photo with a plan of the stone circle.

"Now, can anyone tell me what they were built for?"

A girl in the middle put her hand up. "No one knows."

"Correct," replied the Doctor, though his face looked like he wanted to disagree. "And your name is…?"

"Sophie."

"Sophie," the Doctor repeated. "So, Sophie, tell me: which theory do you believe?"

"Errrrrm… I heard someone say that it might have been used as a calendar, of sorts."

"That is a possibility, since it seems to follow the sun, as you saw in the solstice photo." He called it back up again, pointing at the sun peeking through between two of the stones. "What about you, Jonah?"

"A sacred place, sir? Somewhere to carry out religious rites and ceremonies?"

"Again, yes, a possibility, and quite a common one. Anyone else?"

A boy at the back of the room thrust his hand up, and shouted out, "A UFO landing site, sir!"

The entire class laughed, except, the Doctor noticed, for a longhaired girl sitting on the end of the front row, nearest the window. In fact, the Doctor was sure that he'd seen her flinch at the mention of UFOs. Considering his reply, the Doctor was saved the need by a knock on the door. The headmaster stuck his head into the room and grinned apologetically.

"Sorry, Mr Smith, but could I speak to Miss Campbell for a moment?"

The girl who hadn't laughed stood up, looking rather relieved. She crossed to the door and went out into the corridor.

DW

The Doctor ran to catch up with the Campbell girl as she walked home.

"So," he said, falling into step beside her, "what did you think of my lesson?"

She jumped, and stared at his, wide-eyed.

"Oh, yes, very interesting!" she said, a little high pitched. "Those were great pictures you found, Doctor…. I mean, Mr Smith!"

"Doctor?" repeated the Doctor, looking confused, though his hearts were racing. "I'm Mr Smith, remember?" He held up an ID. "See?"

"Liar! That's psychic paper!" Suddenly, she blushed, then ran away. The Doctor stared after her. She could certainly run fast. He was sure he'd seen her before. Then it hit him. She was the girl that he and Martha had seen in the TARDIS. So she knew who he really was. Curiouser and curiouser. He pulled his sonic screwdriver out of his pocket and considered it, then thought better of it. It was too early to go breaking and entering just yet. Besides, he couldn't go without Martha. She'd miss out on all the fun. That would be unfair.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

"Yes, she appears to be rather distracted at the moment."

"Quite… _distant_."

"You mean, more than usual?"

"Hmm…"

The Doctor couldn't resist. "Who's this you're talking about?"

The teachers jumped in unison. "That Campbell girl, John," one explained. "Something's upset her lately, and she doesn't seem to be able to concentrate on her work."

"Perhaps someone should check with her care workers, see if they know what's going on," suggested one of the student teachers from her position by the coffee-pot.

"Gladly," murmured the Doctor, a smile playing about his lips, and a plan formulating in his mind.

DW

Martha ladled yet another load of macaroni onto yet another plate and handed it to yet another pair of hands. She had grown increasingly grumpy, as her investigations regarding the girl in the TARDIS had proved fruitless; apparently, the girl very rarely ate in the canteen.

She was sure the dinner ladies didn't like her, either. Hardly surprising, really. She hadn't exactly been successful in making yesterday's soup, and had ended up almost scalding herself and everyone in the room. So now she was reduced to washing up… and serving.

She ladled yet another load of macaroni onto yet another plate and handed it to yet another pair of hands.

"Ta!" said a familiar voice.

She looked up. It was the Doctor, looking very smug. She glared at him, sure he was about to make a smart comment about her serving of many ladlefuls of macaroni onto many plates and handing them to many pairs of hands. His eyes widened innocently again.

"I've just got us the perfect excuse to snoop around," he said quietly, a huge grin on his face, then walked away.

Martha rolled her eyes, and concentrated on ladling yet another load of macaroni onto yet another plate and handing it to yet another pair of hands.

DW

She really wasn't sure how much more her nerves could take. _He hasn't even asked me who I am_, she thought sadly as she walked home. She omitted the fact that she hadn't actually given him a _chance_ to do so.

Suddenly, a pair of hands reached out from an alleyway and grabbed her, then pulled her off the pavement. She felt the barrel of a gun press against her side.

"The Doctor!" a voice hissed in her ear. "Do you know him?"

She breathed slowly, careful not to make any sudden movements. "Maybe," she said. Then she gestured at the gun. "You won't kill me."

"You're right," sighed the voice, and she was released. She turned round to see her attacker sinking onto a wooden crate. She had shoulder length brown hair, a little sprinkled with grey, and a kind looking face with not a few wrinkles. A face that she had seen all over the country a few years ago.

"Harriet Jones, ex-Prime Minister!" she gasped.

"Yes, I know who I am," snapped Harriet Jones. "But who are you? I saw you go into the TARDIS, which must mean that you're in league with the Doctor."

"Not really," she replied, looking away. "Who wants to know?"

"A woman whose career he cut short."

She chuckled coldly. "Yeah he tends to do that when people brutally mur-"

"They'd attacked us!"

"_They were leaving_!"

Harriet glared, and she could see just how much losing power had affected her. "You sound just like him," she hissed savagely.

"I assume he was the one who caused your downfall, then? What, did he bring down your government with a single word, or something?"

"No!" retorted Harriet indignantly. Then, much more quietly: "Six"

"Six words!" she laughed, then became sober again. "But you do know that revenge isn't the right way to go, right?"

"He played revenge on me."

"Not exactly." She sat down beside her on the upturned crate. "He couldn't justify leaving someone who would do that sort of thing in power. Maybe it was a one off, but it was not a good thing to do."

Harriet bowed her head. "I know," she sniffed. "Everyday I relive that moment, wishing I could change it, but I can't." She rubbed her eyes. "He had a companion, Rose Tyler. That was the last time she saw me. What did she think of me then? And now I'll never be able to redeem myself in her eyes. Her name was on the list of the dead in the Battle at Canary Wharf."

She petted her on the shoulder, just once. Then she stood up. "I'm afraid I need to go."

"Before you do…" Harriet laid a hand on her arm. "How did _you_ meet him?"

She regarded Harriet carefully, wondering what she should tell her. Eventually she shook her head.

"I'll tell you one day, but not now."

"Why not?"

Her eyes grew distant. "Because _he_ doesn't know who I am yet. And until he's figured it out, I'm not telling anyone."


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

The Doctor reached up and knocked on the door.

"What, no sonic?" asked Martha teasingly.

"Not needed… yet."

The door opened. A fairly young man in old jeans and a paint-spotted T-shirt stepped out. "Yes?" he asked, taking in the pair on the pavement.

"I'm John Smith, and this is my friend, Martha," said the Doctor, flapping his psychic paper in front of the man's face. "I'm a teacher at the Candlewood Secondary School nearby. I've been sent to ask about one of the children here."

"You mean, "_the Campbell girl_"?" asked the man wearily.

"Yes," replied the Doctor. "That's the one. It's come to my colleagues' notice that something has upset her lately, and we were hoping that her care workers could shed a little light?"

"You'd better come in," said the man, stepping aside so they could enter.

The hall was light and airy. Martha saw a notice board with pictures of adults, their names written below. There was one of the man who had answered the door. His name was Damian Gladstone.

From somewhere above came the sound of harp playing. Martha had never heard such beautiful or sad music. She glanced at the Doctor, and saw that his eyes were shining strangely, his gaze far away, a look of almost raw grief on his face. She shivered at what she saw in his eyes. She'd seen that look only a few times before, once when he'd finally told her about the Time War and the destruction of his race and home planet, and another time when the Master had died in his arms. She'd also seen it when he'd talked about Rose Tyler. She slipped her hand into his and held it tightly. He was brought back to earth with a jolt, and he smiled sadly at her.

"If you'll just wait in here," said Damian, who hadn't noticed anything, pointing at a small sitting room. "I'll go get Charlene, then get back to my painting. Charlene's the boss around here."

The pair sat down on a low, pale blue sofa. For a moment they were silent. Then Martha plucked up the courage to ask.

"What was upsetting you back there?"

"What? Me upset? Nothing!" replied the Doctor, flashing her a grin. "Nothing at all!" Martha could see she wasn't going to get anywhere, so she turned her attention to the room they were in. Painted blue, with a blue carpet and blue sofas and chairs arranged in a semi-circle. There were a few photos around the room, all of them featuring kids at the park, at the beach, gathered around a birthday cake, dancing at a party… Martha had never really met a kid in care before, apart from having to treat one that had fallen and sprained his ankle. It looked as though, in the absence of their real families, they'd all become one big family.

The door opened. A short, plump woman with masses of red curly hair walked in, carrying a blue folder. Her free hand was held out to the Doctor and Martha.

"Hi!" she beamed, shaking the Doctor and Martha's hands in turn. "I'm Charlene Bain. I believe you want to talk to me about one of the girls here?"

"Yes," replied the Doctor, once more slipping into the business like teacher mode. "Basically, what it is, is that my colleagues and myself have noticed that she seems to have been upset recently by something, and it's affecting her concentration and work. We were hoping that you might have noticed anything…?"

Charlene shook her head. "We've noticed, but we, like you, have no idea about what's wrong. She's like a closed book at the best of times… she's always been like this. We'd thought at first it might have been her past creeping up on her. She lost her entire family three years ago. Yesterday was the anniversary of that event, as a matter of fact…" She paused. "Is the effect on her work bad?"

"Not in _my_ class, at any rate, but I couldn't say for her other lessons. It's mostly just a slight drop in her usual standard, I think. To be honest, I feel that it's more concern for her personally that has motivated my fellow teachers to check up on this," he explained.

Charlene nodded. "She's quite popular at school. Would you like to speak to her?"

"Certainly."

Charlene stood up and showed them out of the room. The Doctor pressed something into Martha's hand as they went out. It was the sonic screwdriver. She raised an eyebrow questioningly. "Have fun," he whispered, his eyes twinkling mischievously.

Charlene led them to a room on the first floor. The sound of harp playing was louder now.

"She's practising," murmured Martha. "We could come back later," she suggested.

"Oh, no, don't worry, she's used to getting interrupted," said Charlene, knocking on the door. The music stopped abruptly, and the door opened. A face framed by long brown hair peered out.

"Mr Smith would like to have a little talk with you, if that's okay."

The girl nodded, and opened the door to let them in. Her room was fairly small, dominated by a large pedal harp. Martha was intrigued. How did a kid in care get a huge expensive instrument? Or was it hired?

They watched as the girl put the dust cover back over the harp, and wheeled it into a corner. She gestured to her bed for them to sit down, and perched on her harp stool.

"I'll leave you to talk with her for a while," said Charlene, turning to go.

"Wait a moment," said Martha, grinning apologetically. "Could you tell me where your bathroom is first?"


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

The old bathroom excuse. Martha smiled as she remembered employing that very trick to get out of class for a bit of a breather. Especially in Geography. Not only had the teacher been _extremely_ boring, but also she had sat next to the sports champion in her year. This shouldn't have been too bad, except that he had worked _very_ hard at sports; they were yet to develop an effective enough deodorant for him. He'd also missed a lot of class time for competitions and matches, which meant he had often needed to catch up by copying her notes.

Martha went to the bathroom anyway, for the sake of appearances. As she waited for a suitable length of time, she overheard Charlene telling someone that she was going out for a while. That meant her office would be empty. Perfect.

She crept back along the corridor, trying to figure out which room was Charlene's office. Then she decided that it was probably the one with the big green sign that said "_Charlene's Office_" in large letters.

It wasn't locked. Martha crept in, closing the door softly behind her. The room was pretty ordinary looking: a desk with a laptop sitting on it, a printer, a purple desk tidy, a photo-copier in the corner, an empty mug, several shelves with files, a few photos, and a locked filing cabinet. Sonic screwdriver in hand, Martha decided to check the cabinet first.

She looked closely at it. The top drawer was marked "_Staff_" and the one below it, "_Residents_."

"Bingo."

One wave of a sonic screwdriver later and Martha found herself leafing through the large collection of alphabetised folders. It was at this point that she realised that she only knew that girl's surname. If there were more than one Campbell, it would take a little longer that she had first thought. As it turned out, she needn't have worried; there was only one Campbell anyway. A Scottish surname in London wouldn't be _that_ common, she supposed.

She pulled out the file and set it on the desk. Inside was a photo of the girl sitting beside her harp. Though she was smiling, her eyes seemed sad. It reminded her of what she'd seen in the Doctor's eyes earlier. She shivered again.

There was a short history attached. Her name was Susan Campbell, and she was 16 years old. She'd lost her family in a car crash three years ago. There was a small post-it note stuck beside it. She glanced at it. "_Official History, as certified by Torchwood_" it said. Intrigued, Martha turned the page.

"_**Actual History:**_

"_**Name:** Susan Campbell._

"_**Age:** -_"

"_What_?"

DW

"You need to talk to me, you know."

"Why should I? You don't even know who I _am_!"

The Doctor rubbed his temples, sighing. He'd tried the friendly, concerned teacher approach, now for something a bit more direct. He reached out and placed his hands on either side of her head. He sent his mind forth…

…And encountered a barrier.

His eyes opened wide, and he stepped back, releasing her as he did so. She smiled smugly at him.

"You're supposed to ask first," she reminded him.

The Doctor shook his head. "So, you gonna tell me who you are? And what's upset you?"

She eyed him disappointedly. "You mean, you haven't figured it out? Oh, well. I'm sure your companion will tell you soon enough."

"I don't know what you mean," retorted the Doctor innocently.

"Come on, you know perfectly well she didn't go to the bathroom." She turned and strode to the window. "You asked me what it was that's been distracting me lately." She pointed at something outside. "Look out there." The Doctor joined her at the window, and did so. It was a view of the junkyard the TARDIS was parked in.

"Not much of a view," he commented.

"I heard you arrive, then I saw you. That's what has upset me. To see you after so long. I haven't seen you in _years_." She gestured again. "Do you remember that place?"

The Doctor rubbed his forehead, frowning. "Vaguely. 900 plus years, you go to a lot of places, see a lot of sights, do a lot of things…"

"I know." She looked up at him. "So, have you figured out who I am yet?"

"Awwwwwwwwww, you mean I have to _guess_?"

"You used to love figuring stuff out," she noted. "Go on, try."

"Err… can I have a clue?"

She stared at him. "How many more bloody clues do you _need_?" she exclaimed.

DW

Martha felt something trickle down her cheek. It was a tear. The story of how Susan Campbell had lost her family was a very sad one. Not only had they all been killed in one horrific car crash, but she-

Martha looked up, alarmed, as a huge bang echoed around the house. Gathering the folder in her arms, she sprinted towards Susan's bedroom.

DW

The wall basically blew away into the street. Dust was everywhere. Rubble flew towards the room's occupants, including a brick headed straight for the Doctor's head.

"Grandfather!" yelled the girl, pushing the Doctor out of the way. The brick hit her instead, and she fell to the floor, unconscious.

The Doctor stared aghast at the huge, insect-like creatures heading towards them. He dropped to his knees and cradled the girl in his arms, tears flowing freely down his face. Tears of joy.

"Susan," he whispered, and, kissing her forehead, he held his granddaughter close to him.


	7. Chapter 7

gasp it's susan! just as i suspected! and as you lot all suspected too, by the looks of it. ah wells. 'twasn't exactly hard to guess. my guinea-pigs (i.e. my friends on dA) guessed it more or less straight away too. so yeah, susan was left behind with a guy called david campbell whom she'd fallen in love with, reappeared in _the five doctors_ but didn't say anything about what she'd been up to, and hasn't been seen since. susan's teenage appearance is part of my whole amazing theory that's she's half-time lord and stuff. i just think it'd be great for her to come back as a teenager and freak out the doctor! P anyways, on with the show!

Chapter Seven

Martha arrived just in time to see the Doctor and Susan hauled over the shoulders of these weird… _bug-things_ and carted off through the hole in the wall.

"Oh dear."

DW

The Doctor was trying the friendly and winning approach into finding out who these guys were, and what they wanted. Trying and failing.

"So, who are you then, eh? Or _what_ are you?"

The bug-thing carrying him responded by shoving him non-too-gently into a more secure position on its shoulder.

"Ouch! Careful! I'm delicate! But really," continued the Doctor earnestly. "What are you?"

"You'll find out." The alien spoke with a strange, chittery voice, like a grasshopper. A big grasshopper.

They stopped in the middle of a nearby park. It was deserted, the swings stationary, the slide empty. The Doctor could see Susan from his vantage-point, elegantly lung over an over-sized grasshopper's shoulder. A little blood was clogged in her hair, and she was still unconscious. His head was still reeling slightly at the revelation that his granddaughter had returned to him after all this time. Or rather, he amended, _he_ had returned to _her_.

There would be questions, not all of them from him. There would be answers, not all the ones she would want to hear. But later. First, he had to attend to his friends the grasshoppers. Too late he remembered that Martha had the sonic, as the aliens jumped high into the sky.

DW

She gazed at the sonic screwdriver in her hand. She'd considered throwing it to the Doctor as he was carried off, but the fact that his arms were pinned to his sides would have made catching it a bit difficult. She supposed he could have caught it in his teeth… Martha allowed herself a small smile at the image, before turning serious again.

She had quickly been joined by the social workers and kids in the home, all demanding to know what had happened. Not sure what to say, Martha wondered if the Doctor ever entered someone's life quietly. She supposed not.

On the street below they saw a plump figure pick her way through the rubble, horrified. They saw her look up, staring at the huge hole in the wall of the home where the kids in her care lived.

"What happened?" she screamed at them, racing inside. Soon she was beside them, her chest heaving.

Martha tried to explain as best she could, but she was missing a few crucial details; such as, what _were_ those things?

DW

The spaceship resembled a huge clump of grass. The Doctor and Susan had been left in a chamber right at the bottom, amongst what looked like roots.

He stroked the hair off her face. She was really quite pretty. Her hair was ridiculously long, though. He'd have to do something about that.

She stirred and looked up at him, her eyes smiling just as much as her mouth.

"Figured it out yet?" she murmured cheekily, and just for a moment she looked like her old self.

"Susan." The Doctor hugged her. "So why didn't you tell me?"

Susan sighed sadly. "A lot's changed. _I've_ changed. But, mainly, I guess I just wanted proof that you remembered me. I-" She looked away. "I wasn't even sure if you'd still _want_ me."

"What in the Universe made you think that? You _know_ I'd never forget you."

"You left me, " she said simply. "You locked the TARDIS door and you left me. You know, at the time I was devastated. But, over the years, I've come to accept it, understand why you did it, even." She hugged her knees to her chest, dreading what he might ask next.

"Did you marry David?

"Yes." She looked up at him, and he was startled to see tears forming in her eyes. "We married, and moved up to Scotland. He had family up there. We had three children together: two girls and a boy. Barbara, Ian and Teegan." The Doctor smiled at her choice of names. "I worked with the deaf, teaching sign language and training guide dogs, that sort of thing. David became a teacher."

"And the children?"

"Barbara became a doctor." They looked at each other for a moment, laughed, then Susan continued. "Ian joined the paramedics in the local hospital, and Teegan studied history at university, with the aim of becoming a teacher."

"She didn't become a teacher?" The Doctor held out a hankie as the tears spilled over.

"No. She never got the chance. Just after Teegan completed her course, we went for a holiday. It was a particularly wet summer that year, and landslides had been caused in the mountains. One such landslide caught the car as we drove south, and shoved the car over a precipice. Everyone in the car was killed. Except me." She sniffed, and took a deep, shuddering breath. "Dad's Timelord genes got passed into me alright, but the human gene was too dominant in my children to save them. The human factor's the reason I'm a teenager again," she added sadly. She looked up at him. "And the worst part was, at the funeral," she whispered, "I couldn't even say that it was _my_ husband, _my_ children. The authorities that hushed everything up forbade me. As for everyone else, as far as they were concerned, I was the fifth coffin in the church. The empty one."

Finally, having let loose the secret that had tormented her, that she'd hidden for three years, she allowed herself to be bundled into her grandfather's arms, and wept, just as she had done when she was a little girl scared by nightmares of monsters.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

Charlene was gulping water and a paracetemol by the time Martha had finished her story.

"Right, so we have a resident snatched by a bunch of grasshoppers, along with your companion, who also happens to be the Doctor-"

"Hang on!" interrupted Martha. "I never said anything about him being a doctor." She frowned suspiciously at the care worker. "Just where did you go earlier?"

"I've known the truth about Susan ever since she came here three years ago," explained Charlene with a sigh. "When I saw you arrive with the Doctor, I recognised him instantly. I'm guessing that's Susan's file you've got behind your back," she added. Martha blushed. "You'll have noticed that Torchwood is involved," Charlene went on. "No doubt you'll have come across them?"

"One of them," Martha admitted.

"I made an arrangement with them when Susan first came here, that if the Doctor ever came here, I would notify them immediately. That's where I went after I spoke to you two."

"Why? Why wait? How do I know what you're telling me is true? I've met the head of Torchwood. He could easily have told us about Susan, but he didn't. Why not?"

"It was at Susan's own request that no one told the Doctor about her. She wanted him to figure it out for himself, I believe." Charlene shook her head. "Susan is the Doctor's granddaughter, you see."

Suddenly, Martha thought that she could do with the water and paracetemol too.

DW

Susan had recovered enough to walk around the cell. It was small, only three strides wide at the most, but it appeared to be a room hollowed out of the earth… or whatever it was that the ship was made of. However, the Doctor and Susan soon discovered that it only for decorative use, when they scraped some of the dirt away to reveal a metal wall behind it.

"You know what I'd like?" asked Susan wistfully. "To see Gallifrey again. That red sky, the citadel, the-"

"We can't."

Susan turned to look at him. "Why not?" she asked. "Have you annoyed the Time Lords so much that they've finally exiled you for good? Or is it me? I know they've never been that keen on me, what with my being half-human and all, but they've never been _that_ hostile."

You don't understand," replied the Doctor heavily. "Gallifrey isn't _there_."

"What do you mean, not there?" Susan sat down beside him. "What happened?"

The Doctor gulped, cleared his throat and took a deep breath. "There was a war," he began. "A Time War, between the Time Lords and the Daleks. It was disrupting the whole Universe, and would have ended in its destruction, if not for the final resort. The worlds were destroyed, burned."

"It was you who ended it, wasn't it." It wasn't a question.

"I tried everything," murmured the Doctor, almost pleadingly. He felt Susan lean closer beside him. "There was no other way."

"But some escaped, didn't they?"

The Doctor nodded. "The Dalek Emperor is no more. A companion of mine destroyed him and his band of Daleks when she looked into the Heart of the TARDIS." Susan gave a small gasp. "Of the Cult of Skaro, only one remains, and I don't know when or where he is…" He took a breath. "And there was the Master."

"Mr Saxon."

The Doctor looked at Susan in surprise. She smiled faintly. "Last year, I was in a cycling accident. It induced a coma. When I woke up, Mr Saxon was in charge, and the Toclafane were roaming the streets, killing innocent people. I saw who Mr Saxon really was; a Time Lord, one I'd never met save for that time in the Death Zone. So I hid. I'd seen what he'd done to you, and I knew it wasn't safe, even as a half-Time Lord. Then I heard the story: of Martha Jones, the legend, that she was the only one who could destroy the Master. And I heard her message, her instruction. And on the appointed hour of the appointed day, I thought the word "_Doctor_!" as hard as I could. Then I woke up." She gazed up at him. "I've never been quite sure if it was a dream or not."

"It was real," the Doctor assured her. He looked up at the ceiling as if the answer to his next question would be written on it. "But how do you remember that? The only people who should have any recollection of it at all are those who were aboard the _Valiant_."

"Or those that have Time Lord blood in them," Susan pointed out.

"Indeed," agreed the Doctor.

DW

"Hi, I'm Captain Jack Harkness. And who are _you_?"

Martha turned around, startled.

"Jack!" She hugged him. "Am I glad to see _you_!"

"Damn," grinned the American. "I was hoping it was someone new to introduce myself to."

"Sorry to disappoint you!" laughed Martha. Then her face grew serious. "Tell me, What do you know about grasshoppers?"

DW

"So, what are we doing here?"

"Bugs things blew a hole in your wall and ran off with us," summarised the Doctor. "As for _why_ they did it, I'm not sure. I could find out, but it involves us getting out of this room undetected, and we can't really do that at the moment."

"Why not? Is it a dead-lock seal?"

"I don't know," admitted the Doctor, rubbing the back of his neck. "The thing is, Martha still has my sonic screwdriver."

"Oh, is _that_ all? Well, then, that's _easy_."

"What _are_ you talking about?" asked the Doctor, confused by the grin spreading across Susan's face.

Like a trainee magician performing her first successful trick, Susan produced a long, thin tube from her pocket.

"Where did you get a sonic screwdriver from then?" demanded the Doctor.

Susan chuckled. "What, you've never been bored?"

DW

"Grasshopper-like aliens… nope, nothing in the database." Jack looked up at his expectant audience and sighed. "We've never come across one of these before," he admitted. "Do you know where they took the Doctor and Susan?" They all shook their heads.

"You could do a scan for alien-tech, or something," Martha pointed out.

Jack did a scan for alien-tech.

"There's a park nearby with a great big spaceship hanging above it. Do you think that might be it?"

They ran out of the house towards the park.


	9. Chapter 9

i've had some constructive criticism which confused me for a little while regarding beign able to tell when a scene changes and we're at a different part of the story. it confused me 'cos, when i write my stories, i put three asterisks between sections, and i couldn't understand why people found it hard to notice these. now i've found out what the problem is: won't let show the asterisks, so i'm gonna put in little DW's thanks for all these watches and favourites and reviews, i really appreciate them. and thanks to L Moonshade and Galeniel for pointing this out to me! and Galeniel, i nearly made you _cry?_ hope you mean in a good way! P on with what you really want, as opposed to my random ramblings incidently, before i stop boring you, the reasons for these quick updates is 'cos the chapters are all written out. don't expect this when i finally catch up with what i've written so far (i've got a couple of _harry potter_ stuff and another _doctor who_ one.) and now i shall leave you in peace D

Chapter Nine

The Doctor peered around the edge of his cell door, and found himself face to face with a giant grasshopper.

"Oh, bugger."

DW

When the Doctor was dragged off, Susan followed, keeping as quiet as possible. If something looked her way, she stood still until its gaze passed. Her hand clasped the TARDIS key hanging around her neck the entire way.

She followed the Doctor and his convoy higher up through the ship. Finally, they emerged into a strange glass structure, rather like a glass jar turned upside down. In the centre was a huge chair, and arranged around this were loads of consoles. A great many more grasshoppers were dotted around these, pressing buttons, scanning readouts and generally being busy. But what Susan saw in the chair took her by surprise- and this is saying something, considering who her grandfather is.

What sat in the chair did not resemble a grasshopper in any way. Far from it, this alien looked more like a bee, with huge gossamer wings.

Susan stood discretely by the door, out of the way.

"Doctorrrrrrr," buzzed the bee. "We meet at last."

"Oh, do you have to be all clichéd about it?"

"Forgive me," chuckled the bee, a weird sound like a phone vibrating, "but I rarely get a chance to say these sort of things. Did you know that humans are one of very few species whose language gives you the opportunity for a bit of word play, a few clichés, the odd pun…"

From her position by the door, Susan rolled her eyes, but apart from that, she was completely still.

"So, what are you?" asked the Doctor, hoping to get an answer this time.

"I'm Stinga, Queen of the Buzzoffes."

"Queen Stinga of the Buzzoffes," repeated the Doctor, his face straight. "And your friends?"

"They're the Hrass," replied Stinga dismissively. "We're all part of a much larger business; namely, retrieving wanted fugitives across the galaxy."

"And, I'm one of them, right?"

"Correct," buzzed Stinga happily, pleased that she had an intelligent biped on board for once.

"Sooo…" began the Doctor weakly. "What exactly am I being charged with here?"

"The brutal murder of a shipload of retreating Sycorax, which apparently was also a betrayal. It says here," Stinga pointed at a small hand-held computer, "that you had agreed to let them go, and then blasted them out of the skies."

"_What_?"

Susan slipped quietly away. She'd heard enough.

DW

"That's it."

Martha glanced back at Jack. "Thanks, I wouldn't have guessed," she said sarcastically. "So, how exactly are we going to get up there, out of interest?"

"Not a clue," admitted Jack, shrugging. "If the Doctor hadn't short circuited my-"

"You know the Doctor?"

They all turned around to see a dishevelled-looking woman rushing towards them."

"Harriet Jones, ex-Prime Minister!"

"Yes, I know who I am," murmured Harriet wearily. She regarded Martha thoughtfully. "You're the girl travelling with him at the moment, aren't you?"

"Just a short thank-you trip," replied Martha. "How do _you_ know the Doctor?"

"How do you think I met my downfall at Christmas two years ago?" muttered Harriet darkly.

DW

Susan crept into an abandoned transporter room, and saw that one of the screens showed the view below the ship. Including the people standing below it. There were some of the care workers there, including Charlene and Damian, and Harriet Jones, and that girl she'd seen with the Doctor, and… Captain Jack Harkness. She smiled grimly. She had a few things to say to the Captain.

But first, she'd better get them on board. She studied the various controls, laid out so neatly compared to the TARDIS. That said, _anything_ looked neat compared to the TARDIS. She flicked a switch, depressed a button, and turned a few dials, before ramming home the big red button in the middle of the control panel.

The group of people materialised in the centre of the room, stunned and confused by the sudden change in surroundings. Their gazes moved around the room, unable to focus on where Susan was standing. Then she remembered the TARDIS key.

"Susan!" exclaimed Charlene as the girl unhooked the key from around her neck. "What on earth are you doing here?"

"Being the hero," she replied shortly, turning to glare at the Captain.

"Susan, this is Cap-"

"We've met," she snapped, narrowing her eyes at him. Jack looked understandably nervous.

Susan took a few steps forward until she was standing right in front of Jack, rather dwarfed by his height. Suddenly, much to everyone's surprise, she thumped him on the arm. Hard.

"Owwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww!"

"Just be glad it was there, and not somewhere else," she growled.

Jack paled, rubbing his arm. "Okay, I probably deserved that." Susan nodded then motioned for the group to follow her. She led them back to the cell, and closed the door behind them.

"Now what?" moaned Charlene.

"We wait for the Doctor," said Susan simply.

"Where is he?" asked Harriet anxiously.

Susan looked her square in the eye. "He's been arrested for blasting a ship-full of Sycorax out of the sky."

Harriet gasped, then blushed.

The Doctor could not hide his surprise when he was thrown back into his cell, only to find not just Susan, but Martha, Captain Jack Harkness, Harriet Jones and what looked like half the staff from the kid's home.

"Wow, I knew I was loved, but not this much!" he exclaimed, grinning from ear to ear. "Err, Jack? What's wrong with your arm?" He'd just noticed that the Captain was still rubbing his arm. 

"Ask her," he said, gesturing towards Susan.

"Doctor!" exclaimed Martha, before Susan could get a word in. "She's not human, her record says she's sixty years old, and…" she trailed off, horribly aware that the only other person who seemed shocked by this news was Harriet.

"Oh, I knew that," said the Doctor dismissively. "And you're half-right; she's half-human. Susan, this is my companion, Martha Jones, Martha, this is Susan Campbell, my granddaughter."

Martha wished she'd taken one of Charlene's paracetemol tablets for the road. It was true.

When the fact that Susan was the Doctor's sixty-year-old half-human granddaughter, the group sat on the earthy floor of the cell to plan what to do next.

"We have two sonic screwdrivers now," said Martha, "so we could easily escape."

"But we need to clear the Doctor's name first," pointed out Harriet. "Otherwise, they'll just go after him again."

"But that would mean putting you at risk, and most likely condemning you to death," added Susan.

"What we need," murmured the Doctor pensively, "is a way of convincing them that I'm innocent" –Susan snorted- "but will keep Harriet safe."

"You don't say," muttered a grumpy Charlene, aware that her life was in the hands of a bunch of complete strangers and not liking it one bit. Sure, she'd heard of what the Doctor could do, but she'd lived her whole life in control; this was the first time that control had been taken away from her, and to be honest, she was scared.

"I do," replied the Doctor, flashing her a toothy grin. "And what's more, I have an idea of how to do it…"


	10. Chapter 10

agh, i have to make some apologies, now. the first is about the names of the aliens. stinga of the buzzoffes? i admit my imagination ran dry on that one. no one's actually complained, but you never know...

the second is of a more serious nature. obviously, not everyone can like what you write, as Scarf Warriors and The Jolly Gnu have decided to prove to me, due to my "lack of continuity." i'm not an expert on all things _doctor who_, i'll admit it. obviously you are offended by the idea of susan being half-time lord and having regenerated to a teenager. you're right, i do mean well, and i'd have appreciated you guys finding a nicer way of slating my story.

Scarf Warriors, i see from your profile page you dislike the new _doctor who_, so i can understand why you dislike this. and thanks for pointing out my german mistake, i wrote this whilst i was a standard grade german student and still made little mistakes like this. perhaps you'll be happy to know i don't nake this kind of mistake anymore, and have corrected it. i don't personally call the macra mutants, that's the sort of thing i feel martha would use to describe them. and don't worry, i won't "go off on one on you," since i don't do that. but i'm not going to change this story, since this is the second last chapter, and i'm not going to re-write the whole story now.

The Jolly Gnu, if you remember _the five doctors_, you'll know that susan met teegan then. like i said, i'm not a _doctor who _expert, and i don't claim to be. at least you found something positive in the harriet jones storyline.

to both of you, i apologise again for offending you, but this is written for fun, it's my first fan-fic, and i didn't intend for it to be perfect.

anyways, for those of you who _are_ enjoying this story, sorry for my lengthy apologies (oops, there i go again!) and here's the next chapter:

Chapter 10

Stinga rolled her eyes as, for the fourth time, the Hrass tried to figure out what had happened to the engines. A quick check had shown that the Doctor and the girl were still in the cell, and none of the protective suits essential for entering the room appeared to have been used. And yet there were several important wires missing.

She drummed her fingers impatiently. She longed to be shot of this stupid planet, where the ape-like beings seemed to insist on killing everything that moved. She wanted to collect the bounty for the Doctor and be off home. Behind her, the com-screen crackled.

"Um, Your Majesty…" a nearby Hrass coughed respectfully, pointing at the screen. She turned, and saw, to her disgust, that the Sycorax leader was on the line.

"Yes?" she asked with forced politeness. She was utterly sick of the sight of this loathsome creature.

"Where are you?" rasped the Sycorax. "Have you got the Doctor yet?"

"We have," she replied tersely. "However, we've developed a fault and are still here on Earth, and shall remain such until we can repair our ship." She cut the connection before the Sycorax could reply.

"Okay, I've done it!" Jack's voice was clear over the communicator he'd left with the Doctor and Susan in the cell. Jack himself was in the transporter room making a nuisance of himself.

"Great!" beamed the Doctor. "See you in a bit!" He stuffed the device in his pocket and pulled something else out.

"Another of Jack's gadgets?" asked Susan dryly.

"Yup. An x-ray gadget, no less. And, just as I thought, there are two beasties hanging around outside. And while we're on the subject of Jack…" he turned to look at Susan with a stern look, "… just _what_ exactly did you do to his arm?"

"Hit it," replied Susan unblushingly.

"May I ask why?"

"For a couple of reasons," she said coolly. "One being that he promised me that Torchwood would protect me. As you can see, they've failed. The other reason occurred a couple of weeks ago. I was out with a few friends one evening, and we saw him down the street. He'd obviously had a bit too much to drink, and he started coming on to me-"

"Yeah, he does that a lot."

"- and he made quite a scene, not to mention ripped one of my favourite tops." She smiled at the Doctor's expression. "So he deserved it, really. He'll admit as much himself."

"Fair enough. It's good to see you can take care of yourself."

"Doctor!" This time it was Martha's voice. "Everyone except me, Jack and Harriet are in the transporter room. We're on our way over."

"Good." The Doctor beamed again. "Try to take both guards away. I don't want to have to set Susan on any of them." He winked cheekily at his granddaughter.

"Will do. See you."

A few minutes later, they heard the telltale shouts and foot stamping of humans running around making a nuisance of themselves, followed by the characteristic _boiiiiiiiing_ of a pair of large grasshoppers chasing the aforementioned humans.

The Doctor grabbed Susan's hand and, together, they ran out of the cell and down the now deserted corridor towards the control room.

"Oh, I missed this!" cried Susan happily.

After being caught, Martha, Jack and Harriet had been shoved unceremoniously over the Hrass' shoulders, and carted off towards what appeared to be the control centre. In the middle sat the bee-thing that the Doctor had mentioned.

"The intruders, Your Majesty."

The bee fluttered gracefully from her chair. "Humans," she hummed disdainfully. "I should punish you for intruding on my ship."

The humans went white.

"Fortunately for you, I have no jurisdiction over you." Martha breathed a quiet sigh of relief. "But I _can_ detain you for as long as I want…"

"Are you implying that you'd take us away with you?" asked Martha nervously.

"I am."

"But, of course, she's bluffing. They can't take off," said Jack confidently. "You're missing certain wires."

"And what wires would I be missing?" Stinga enquired lightly, though she was getting suspicious.

"The wires from your main engine. _These_ wires," he added, holding out a fistful of colourful wires.

Stinga was not amused. She flung out her arm angrily, catching Jack across the chest and flinging him across the room, narrowly missing a group of Hrass that had just entered. Martha thought she saw something else, but her gaze slid away.

"I'll make your detention so difficult for you," buzzed Stinga angrily.

"Yeah… except you won't!"

The assembled group suddenly noticed the Doctor, and then Susan. They were both pulling something from around their necks.

"The convict!"

"Wrong!" said the Doctor cheerily. "Because I never killed those Sycorax."

"No?" asked Stinga, sounding extremely doubtful.

"No, he didn't," said a voice. "I did."

Almost everyone in the room turned, in shock, to look at Harriet, whose face was pale, yet determined.

The Doctor clapped his hands. "Ex-_act_-ly! Now, do _you_ want to tell the Sycorax, or will I?" Without waiting for an answer, the Doctor dashed over to the screen and fiddled with the controls, until the face of a Sycorax appeared.

"Oh, my God," breathed Martha, recognising the species from three Christmases ago.

"Stinga! Do you have the Doctor?" roared the Sycorax.

"Right here, big fella!" yelled the Doctor happily. "I'm the Doctor, and I address the Sycorax according to Article Fifteen of the Shadow Proclamation, with all the authority of the Slitheen Parliament of Raxacoricofallapatorious and the Gelth Confederacy, as sanctioned by the Mighty Jagrafess and the Daleks." He winked at Harriet, who had just given an unladylike snort. "I am innocent!"

"Explain!"

"I did not kill your friends. The real culprit is here." Harriet stepped forward, and nodded. "However, you have no jurisdiction over Earth and its inhabitants. I, as a Time Lord, do, and have punished her as is my duty."

"Really?" interrupted Stinga interestedly. "Ever considered a partnership?"

"No," replied the Doctor firmly, turning back to the Sycorax. "On behalf of Harriet Jones, I apologise for the murder of the ship-load of Sycorax, and ask that your kind leave this planet alone, to ensure there is no repeat of this terrible business."

They could all see the indecision on the Sycorax's face. Evidently, it wanted to punish Harriet itself, but on the other hand, it had heard of the Doctor. It didn't want to risk coming up against him. The Doctor was the Earth's champion, and had defeated one of his best warriors. Eventually, it gave in.

"Very well." The communication was cut.

Jack handed Stinga the engine wires. "No hard feelings?" Stinga stung him on the arm, and stalked away. "Today is not my day with women," he said sadly.

"Don't bother showing us the way out," called the Doctor as they went out. "We know where to go."

Five minutes later, the entire group was standing in the middle of a deserted play park, watching the ship fly away.

"Will they come back?" asked Harriet.

"I doubt it. They can't arrest you, and they're not after me anymore. If they ever come back it'll be for a holiday," he added with a grin, but the grin instantly faded as Harriet started to cry. He put an arm around her. The others drew away tactfully.

"I saw the list of the dead, after the Battle at Canary Wharf. It said Rose Tyler." Harriet's voice was barely audible.

"She's not dead," replied the Doctor. "She's trapped in a parallel world with her parents and her boyfriend."

"That's just as bad as far as I'm concerned!" sobbed Harriet. "The last thing she saw me do was something awful!"

"One day, I'll find her," promised the Doctor. "And when I do, I swear I'll tell her what you did today. I promise."


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

It was dark by the time they reached the home. Harriet had done home, and Martha had gone to sleep in one of the TARDIS's bedrooms. She'd originally wanted to just take a bus home, but tiredness eventually overruled her. Jack was about to head back to Torchwood.

"You know, it's weird," he began, "being slapped by what looks like a teenager, but is actually a half-time-lord, sixty year old widow."

"Kinda like you, when you think about it," chuckled the Doctor.

"Yeah," grinned the Captain. "And still lookin' good!"

"See you, Jack."

"'Till the next crisis."

DW

Public transport was not something that the Doctor had ever made a habit of using. Usually he was happy enough running around on a burst of adrenaline. But this time, he decided it was probably easier to take a bus.

He'd gone into the home with the intention of saying good night to Susan, but had been met by Charlene instead.

"I want to thank you," she'd said. "For… well, for everything. You got us out of that mess. You saved quite a few people. And you made someone happy. I haven't seen Susan smile that much ever. Not since her husband and children died. I was a close friend back then. You really are as amazing as Jack keeps telling me."

The Doctor had waved a hand modestly. "Where's Susan?"

"You've just missed her. She's probably gone to her special hill." Seeing the Doctor's puzzled expression, she'd explained. "There's a hill not too far away, where you can actually _see_ the night sky. She goes there sometimes. To think." She'd given the Doctor instructions on how to get there. "If you take her back here, at least have the decency to say goodbye properly," Charlene had told him firmly as he'd walked out the door. "Otherwise, take care of her."

And now, here he was, getting off the number 21 bus at the foot of a hill. He climbed it and, sure enough, Susan sat at the top, gazing up at the sky. He sat down beside her.

"It's a beautiful night," she said softly, without looking round. "It's clear. You can see _all_ the stars.

"When we lived in Scotland, we lived in the country-side, by some hills. Sometimes, David and I would get up really early, before dawn, climb the nearest hill, and stargaze. We took the children with us, as they grew older. I'd point out the different constellations and tell their stories. Then I'd tell them all about the ones _I'd_ been to. After that, we would watch the sun rise."

"So, you'd tell them about places like… the Andromeda galaxy?" The Doctor pointed at a smudge of light beside one constellation. "Remember?"

"Yes," Susan smiled. "It was very pink." She pointed up at a fairly bright star. "Polaris. The North Star. _That_ was beautiful."

"The Ultimate North," murmured the Doctor. "And there." He pointed at Orion's belt. "We went there, because-"

"Because I wanted to see what it was like inside a constellation," laughed Susan. "Silly, childish dreams."

"But those dreams became a reality," said the Doctor.

"They did," she agreed with a smile.

"They could become a reality again."

Susan turned to look at him, her eyes sparkling, just like the stars above. "You mean it?" she breathed. Then her face broke into a huge grin. "Thank you!" she cried, flinging her arms around him.

They sat and watched the sun rise.

Then they headed back to the TARDIS, and into the past. Or future. Or present.

Somewhere in Time and Space, anyway.

Fin

aaaaah, there we go! all done! in my mind, the doctor would ask susan if she wanted to go with him again. you might think differently; it's up to you. thanks for all the faves, watches, and your constructive comments. love you all!


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